


The American Dream

by RPF_lifesource_V



Series: Reach Out, We're Here [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extended swearing, Gen, Hurt Alexis | Quackity, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry Alex, IRL Setting, JSCHLATT IS NOT THE ONE DOING THE BAD THINGS, Panic Attacks, Protective Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Racism, Threats of Gun Violence, Threats of Violence, Use of racial slurs, no beta we die like men, people are mean, use of homophobic slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29710737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RPF_lifesource_V/pseuds/RPF_lifesource_V
Summary: Quackity doesn't like to regret things.He's careful with his actions, his words.He doesn't like having to deal with the consequences of something that could've been otherwise avoided. But it's specially bothersome when said things were out of his control, yet they still felt like his fault.One measely weekend trip to New York, that's all he wanted.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Fair warning, this fic contains very sensitive topics, please read the tags.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt
Series: Reach Out, We're Here [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016974
Comments: 17
Kudos: 56





	1. The Foe

**Author's Note:**

> What you're about to read I've only written to project an over exaggerated version of my personal experience unto Alex. I do not wish this upon him or anyone.
> 
> In case you didn't read the tags:  
> TW// Racism, racial slurs, use of Homophobic slurs, threats of Gun Violence, Extended use of swear words
> 
> Before anyone jumps to conclusions, SCHLATT IS NOT THE ONE COMMITING THESE. Quite the contrary in fact, and I wrote this fully aware of how problematic he is as a CC, yet I would never in my right mind write about him actually commiting any of these horrible actions in such a realistic scenario.
> 
> With that, I leave you guys to it.
> 
> This is the first part of a two-shot.

Alex Quackity wasn’t one to regret the things he did often, this was only because he tended to take meticulous care of every action he took and every decision he made. He is a careful person who has learned to master the act of tipping between the lines. He knew exactly where Quackity ended and Alexis began. Quackity was rash, loud and spontaneous; he carried the life of the party, lightened up moods like a lighthouse to a weary carrier. But Alexis has a silver tongue, an unwavering resolve and a sobriety beyond his age. Alexis hates offending anyone who doesn’t deserve it, loathes unnecessary conflict, and, overall, despises having to deal with heavy consequences that could’ve been otherwise easily avoided.

Alexis is still a person of smiles, kindness and softness, but he knows extremely well when certain jokes and commentary are out of place, and he addresses these as such.

At the end of the day, Quackity is a charismatic persona, but Alex is a real person.

And so Alexis, as a real person, often made mistakes that would lead them, with no wiggle room, to outcomes he’ll come to deeply regret.

He hated being on that much of a sore spot.

But, alas, here he was.

One measly trip to New York City, that was all he wanted, three days to unwind, to sign himself up to some ridiculous tourism schedule, to have time to himself. Have the bucket hat, sunglasses and disposable camera experience in a city where there were more billboards than sunlight, where he’d be stuck on traffic seventy percent of the time but it’d be okay because him and the taxi driver would have a great time telling some stupid stories or whatever was it that they did on movies.

Alex just wanted to get away, away from streaming, away from social media, away from everything, just for a while.

So, he planned to take a weekend off. He was an adult, he could make his own plans, pay for his ticket, rent a hotel room, make a budget, all of that. Of course, he’d still have to give his mom a heads up, he’d also have to give the DreamSmp Discord aware of this, to push back any lore content related to him during his small break.

And just like that, he’d made his first mistake.

Sharing his travel plans in the group chat wasn’t that big of an issue, Dream instantly responded with a ‘Have a nice trip!’, Tommy and George teased him a little, Phila and Wilbur gave some offhanded advice like they tend to do and Niki also wished him a nice break.

Both Karl and Sapnap saw this as the perfect opportunity to slip right into roleplay.

**_“Plz be careful babe.” – Sapnap_ **

**_“We’ll keep the bed warm for you uwu.” – Karl_ **

‘Goddamn morons.’ Quackity had thought, amused.

That still wasn’t the issue.

The issue came later with a DM from Jschlatt.

**“ _Mi amor, let’s make a deal. You meet up with me and have dinner with my parents in Montana and I’ll help pay the for the planes to New York and back.”_**

Alex had, honest to god, paused to stare at his phone for a good ten minutes, trying to decipher whether the older had lost the plot or was actually trying to tell him something, and, if so, what the hell did that mean?

 _“Come to Montana for like, two days.”_ Schlatt had explained over the phone after Quackity had called him, confused, _“I’m visiting my parents, not that you have to, that was a joke, but it’d be a pain if you left New York the same day I come back. Let’s meet up, have a couple of drinks and let the night take its course, you know what I mean?”_ Schlatt had laughed at his own suggestive tone, _“C’mon, I’ll like give you a damn tour of like, I don’t know man-Oh! Glacier National Park, ey? How’s that sound Quackity?”_

Quackity had sat back and thought about it for a moment. Actively changing his course to another state entirely certainly threw things out of plan. He’d have to leave earlier, for starters, not to mention that the travel expenses would go up, even if Schlatt did say he’d help pay off the extra plane tickets. However, he’s never been to Montana before so, that’s an opportunity to scratch that off the list. Plus, he’d wanted to meet Schlatt in real life at some point anyways.

So, he figured, why the hell not?

Now, barely a day in, Alex cursed at himself for being so naïve, for not sticking to his original plan.

He’d met up with Schaltt the night before at the airport, the man was as funny and chaotic as his internet persona, but he was also more down to earth, had a kinder smile and, yes, his outrageous facial hair was so painfully real but, if anything, it made Quackity laugh harder.

There were no complications, no setbacks, last night. The two of them hung out and had a good time. Quackity laughed at pretty much all the jokes Schlatt threw his way, and listened intently during the sparce moments when the older would sober up slightly with a far away look in his eyes proceeding to briefly bring up stories of his childhood, leaning against the side of his car as they both stared down a dark green meadow that just barely caught the glistening of moonlight on its grass.

Nothing went wrong Yesterday.

Schlatt left for his parents’ house after dropping Quackity off at the small hotel room he’d rented.

Alex had gone to bed on the squeaky mattress thinking about taking Schlatt up on that Glacier National Park tour offer. He closed his eyes with a good, hopeful mood, and fell asleep.

Then, morning came, things began to take a turn.

Schlatt and him wouldn’t be meeting up until midday, so Alex had the whole morning to waste away by himself. He left the dingy hotel early, without much more than a tired glance from the tired staff at reception.

Quackity, dressed in his casual wear and iconic blue navy beanie, swiftly waved down a taxi and had them drive him up to the closest diner, one he’d caught a glimpse of the night before.

The 20-year-old found himself unable to kick off a conversation with the driver, not when it felt like the other man was glaring at him through the rear-view mirror. Under the heated gaze, the young man decided to keep his rambles to himself and to the window next to him.

At the destination, Alex hastily got off of the vehicle, quietly paying and thanking the man for the drive. He tried hard to suppress the feeling of relief caused by watching the car disappear down the street.

After staring at the road under the morning sun for a few long seconds, Quackity realized what he’d been doing and shook his head with a chuckle. It was too early to overthink things.

With a readying huff, the 20-year-old turned around to face the small compact but cozy-looking establishment that housed “Dirt Road’s Family Diner”. He found that the name didn’t quite fit, as the road next to it was perfectly asphalted, painting pristine.

‘Is this place really old,’ Quackity wondered, ‘or the street brand new?’

Then, he shrugged. ‘As long as the food’s good who cares?’ He reasoned and pushed the glass door open with a smile.

“Welcome to Dirt Road’s Family Diner!” came the overeager greeting, that almost made Quackity jump a foot in the air, from a young woman behind the counter. She looked maybe fresh out of college, short blonde curls framed around her rosy face, smile too big, too strained, eyes tired, riddled with dark bags under each of them.

But her welcoming tone was unwavering.

“Please take a seat and I’ll be with you shortly!”

Alex blinked once and smiled back with a nod before making his way over to a table right next to the window overlooking the street, close to the entrance. Without much to do in his wait, he pulled out his phone and scrolled away the seconds with discord messages and social media notifications.

Next thing he knew, Gina, as he read on her uniform’s nametag, was standing next to him, smiling without quite interacting, actively waiting for him to notice her first.

Alex quickly found he wasn’t quite fond of her smile.

“Here you go.” She said, placing a plastic menu on the table before him. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Thank you,” he responded, looking down at the colorful two-face menu, “but, ah, no. No coffee.”

Gina smiled back patently and nodded. “Ok! Just yell when you’re ready to order.” And she went back behind the counter.

Alex pocketed his phone, picking up the menu, he browsed through the breakfast options. Everything looked equally appetizing to him, but he managed to quickly settle on a dish, this being a breakfast sandwich, and he lowered the plastic cutout to call Gina back.

He startled when he spotted a middle age looking woman staring at him from her spot two tables away. There were more people on her table but only she had her eyes pinned on the young man. Unsure of what to do, Alex stared back until the older woman scoffed at him and turned away.

Alexis sat frozen for all of one second, then snorted.

‘The hell’s her deal?’

It didn’t matter, he decided, and called Gina over, who essentially teleported with how fast she made her way to his table, and eagerly took his order.

Quackity, aloof, listed what he wanted and waited for the waitress to pass off the order to the kitchen staff before he fished his phone back out of his pocket and honing his attention to it.

It wasn’t easy, he couldn’t center his focus on anything as he thumbed through all the content of his phone screen. He’d nearly given up on the distraction, when the device buzzed in his hand. His mom was calling.

He answered without thinking twice, needing to occupy his mind more than anything else.

“Hola mamá.”

_“M’hijo, ¿cómo estás?”_

She proceeded to mostly ask him about how the trip was going, about what he though of Montana so far and other routine things she tended to do when he was away from home. Alex’s answers were clipped and rushed, not paying much attention to them and focusing mostly on the sound of his mother’s voice. He didn’t understand why he was so on edge all of a sudden, but if chatting with his mum made the feeling go away, then he wasn’t about to question it.

Much too soon they had to say their goodbyes.

The _second_ Alex put the phone down he could feel the weight if the entire diner’s gazes bearing down on him. Every pair of eyes inside the building was staring at him now.

His throat went dry, palms grew sticky with sweat. He acted oblivious to it all, keeping his head low, drumming his jittery fingers on the tabletop.

He was being paranoid.

It was all in his head.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

The lady from before had stood up from her seat, Alex could literally sense her making her way over to him.

He bit down hard on his lip and took a deep breath.

“Um, hello? I don’t mean to be a bother, but-,”

When Alex faced the woman, his expression was serene and controlled, soft, non-threatening, small smile and wide eyes.

“Yes ma’am?” He said. “What’s the problem?”

The woman smiled back at him, standing a tad too close to him, with a grin pulled and forceful. She held her hands together in front of her, resting beneath her bust.

“Well, you see, I just need to make sure of some things. I’m sure if you cooperate it’ll be better for everyone soon.”

Alex kept his jaw from clenching too hard.

“Ma’am, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do-,”

“Excuse me? Is there a problem here?”

Alex turned around to see no one other than Gina, who was back with his food on a tray. Scratch everything he’d thought about her before, at that moment, the woman looked like a godsend.

…Until the two ladies started a conversation.

“Yes, honey, you see, I’m just trying to clear some things up, kay?” The older woman said. “Just,” se leaned in closer to the waiter to ‘whisper’, even though her volume stayed pretty much the same, “just look at how that boy is dressed, sweetie, and he’s been on his phone all this time,” her tone became harsher, a sneer, “he’s been making hand signs at me, it’s been terrifying my kids! He’s planning something-,”

Alex felt his jaw drop, battle lost.

‘What the fuck.’ He thought. ‘What the actual fuck.’

Gina’s hold on the tray tightened, though her face scrunched, not quite understanding.

“This- this is a humble establishment ma’am?” she voiced. “I’m sure that- that even the likes of him can afford a meal without much fuzz.”

There was a dense coil tightening at the very bottom of Alex’s stomach, getting bigger and heavier by the second.

The tray was placed in front of him, put down with a loud bang.

“Sorry for the inconvenience!” Gina smiled, it felt plastic and wrong. “Now, ma’am, please go back to your table, I assure you nothing is wrong.”

The older woman splutter on her spot, looking crazed and insulted, but turned away sharply, essentially stomping back to her table.

Gina, uninvited, placed a hand of Alex’s shoulder, squeezing with thinly veiled pity, before excusing herself back to work.

Nausea was clawing up Alex’s chest, his thoughts loud, erratic.

He stared down at the food on the tray and nearly gagged.

Alex was left alone to eat, but couldn’t help feeling crowded, cornered. He knew everyone was staring for sure now. He didn’t try to tell them off, not wanting the situation to escalate even more.

As it turned out, there was little he could do about that.

His uneven breathing must’ve bothered some people, not only the food.

The 20-year-old nearly jumped out of his skin when a deep voice hollered in his direction.

“Something wrong, boy?”

Alex slowly, carefully, raised his head enough to see an, at least, six-foot tall, massive frame, white skinned, auburn haired man, glaring at him. The woman from earlier stood proud behind his shadow, there were two eight to nine years-old children half-hidden behind her.

“I said,” the man, an angry tone to his voice, snarled, “Is something wrong, boy.”

‘What the fuck.’ Alex thought again, panicking. ‘What kind of fucking horrible coming of age movie am I in? This can’t be fucking real. Wake up. Wake the fuck up right fucking now!’

Discreetly pinching his arm didn’t work. Alex blinked up at the man.

A muffled voice came from the kitchen.

_“What’s going on out there? Do I need to call the cops?”_

“Maybe,” Angry man towering over Alex said, “it depends on who it was you were talking to earlier, kid.” He’s gotten closer now, pinning the younger down with a too close scowl. “Who were you calling earlier? Huh? Back up? The boys? You think you can just up and rob this place, boy?” He deepened his frown, seemingly in thought. “Can you even understand what I’m saying?”

He leaned down, right into the younger’s space. “Do you speak English, beaner?”

Alex stopped breathing.

 _“I’m calling the cops.”_ Said the voice from the kitchen.

The man antagonizing Alex let out a sharp laugh. “You better, before I go get a thing from my truck and decide to do something about this.”

Heart thundering in his chest, Alex shot up from his chair and strode over to Gina, who’d just been walking over, and slapped a fifty-dollar bill into her hands.

“K-Keep the change.” He stuttered and craned his neck to yell in the direction of the kitchen. “Please don’t call the cops! It’s fine! I’ll leave!”

Without waiting for an answer, Alex spun around and briskly walked over to the front door. Just shy of tearing it open, the man made a grab at his hair, only succeeding in ripping the beanie off his head before Alex was gone less than a moment later, out of the building and basically sprinting down the sidewalk.

He hears shouting behind him but doesn’t stop, not until his body begs him to, until the blood rushes away from his ears and he can hear something other than the words, than the slurs, can feel something other than the heated glares, the pity squeeze on his shoulder, the phantom grip to his hair.

When he finally stumbled to a stop, his limbs ached fiercely, and his chest caved in with every shaky breath. The thoughts in his head were in too much of a disarray to make any sense of them.

Alex looked around in a panic, but saw no one chasing after him, just the road and a few lone buildings.

His nerves were still blown haywire, he knew he wouldn’t relax until he was back in the hotel room. Hell, he’d take the quickest road to California right now if he could.

Trembling, he stepped closer to the road and raised a lead-weight arm to flag down a taxi. Within a minute one stops right in front of him, but Alex didn’t get in.

The passenger window is down, he’s got full view of the driver.

It’s, unbelievably, the same driver from before, but now Alex is paying attention to the details.

And there’s a pistol resting above the dashboard, pressed up against the windshield for all to see.

Alex didn’t think.

He stumbled back a step or two, before whirling around and breaking back into a full on sprint.

Alex felt something lodged in his throat, didn’t let it out.

He was terrified.

He was so very, very scared.

So, he ran.

No less than two minutes later, a loud car honk too close to his right startled him violently, his feet tangled and he’s sent straight into the concrete with only his arms to shield him.

Someone yelled and Alex thought ‘This is it.’ The crazy man from the diner had come after him and now he was going to murder him right there.

Alex wished he could say that he didn’t know why.

Not knowing would’ve at least made more sense than this. It’d make him feel less helpless if anything.

He was too caught up in his head, before he knew it there were hands on his shoulders, both of them this time, shaking him and then pulling up from his armpits. Alex was too petrified with dread to do anything about it.

Until he recognized the voice.

His eyes snapped open, Schlatt’s alarmed face stared back at him.


	2. The Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was too caught up in his head, before he knew it there were hands on his shoulders, both of them this time, shaking him and then pulling up from his armpits. Alex was too petrified with dread to do anything about it.
> 
> Until he recognized the voice.
> 
> His eyes snapped open, Schlatt’s alarmed face stared back at him.
> 
> ...
> 
> On impulse, he lashed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with the final part of this work! I took major creative liberty for this part, this is where any real life event similarities dissappear. I wanted to make the closing half of this something that had a bit more of a heroic and fictional feel to it, but could also some what remain believable.
> 
> It's a more dynamic and head-on take that I still consider felt jarring to the characters. Overall, I really enjoyed writing this and I can't wait to read your thoughts on this!
> 
> TW// Racial slurs, homophobic slurs, threats of gun violence, threats of violence, death threats

_He was too caught up in his head, before he knew it there were hands on his shoulders, both of them this time, shaking him and then pulling up from his armpits. Alex was too petrified with dread to do anything about it._

_Until he recognized the voice._

_His eyes snapped open, Schlatt’s alarmed face stared back at him._

...

On impulse, Alex lashed out, pushing the other way and stumbling to his feet. Schlatt, barely nudged at all, strode over and hovered close, but didn’t touch the younger.

And _now_ Alex could hear what’s around him.

“Quackity! What the hell, man?!” Exclaimed his friend, confused but undeniable on edge. “What the fuck is going on?”

Alex didn’t respond, Schlatt’s car was hastily parked next to them, bystanders glanced and stared at the commotion. He felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Can you drive me to the hotel?” The 20-year-old asked, not facing the other.

“What?”

Alex forced himself to take a deep breath. “People are staring. Can we get inside the car?”

It took the other a few moments to respond, but he nodded eventually.

“Y-Yeah man, get in.”

They both clambered onto the vehicle, and were on the way to the small hotel not a second later.

It was two streets away.

Schlat parked the vehicle without much of a word. When they walked through the reception and the younger didn’t raise his head, instead making a beeline for his room, he didn’t question it either.

He did raise an eyebrow when, once inside the small, more motel like than hotel like, room, he watched his friend pointedly locked the door behind them, freezing, and then doing it again as if for good measure, even though it had been successfully locked the first time.

Alex paced the room, Schlatt leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

“You look like shit, dude.” The older bluntly stated. Alex snorted but remained silent, still walking up and down the carpeted floor.

His hands were shaking terribly, Schlatt noticed, as thy fidgeted against each other, up and down his arms, raking through his hair-

‘Wait.’

“Where’s your beanie?” Schlatt asked, a bit put off by seeing his friend suddenly without it when the other made a point of always keeping it on.

Schlatt found himself regretting asking so directly when Alex pointedly froze in the middle of his pacing, and then very nervous habit he’d been presenting before increased its intensity tenfold.

The American then decided, ‘That’s it.’

“Hey,” he started, “Hey, Quackity. Quacki-…Alex, listen to me, you need to calm the fuck down so I know who I need to fucking kill.”

At the use of his real name, Alex finally stopped his fidgeting, but he looked as much a frightened animal as he did before.

“Alright.” Schlatt said, carefully stepping closer. “Alright, mi amigo, we’re-,”

_“Don’t!”_

In a matter of a second, Alex had spun around, fully facing Schlatt, and had forcefully taken a hold of the collar of the taller’s shirt, hauling him down and snarling at his face with a mad look in his eyes.

And a moment after that, the younger seemed to realize what he’d done, and released the hold like it had burned him. Alex took a couple of steps back, before the back of his legs found the edge of the bed and he sat down heavily like all strings holding him up had been snapped and severed.

“Oh god.” Alex’s voice was heavy, clogged. “Oh my fucking god. What the fuck.”

The younger curled in on himself, eyes unseeing. He kept, once again, raking his hands up and down his arms, occasionally through his hair, pulling slightly.

Risking another outburst, Schlatt made move to intervene.

A series of blaring car honks coming from right outside stopped him. Alex’s head shot up in alarm, they both stared at each other as the onslaught continued.

And then they were both shaken to the core.

_“Ey Beaner! Come out ‘ere so I can send you right back over the wall. Rob your own goddamn stores!”_

Alex flinched so hard the tremor wrecked over his entire frame, breathing gone erratic, a dying whine escaped his dry lips. He felt cold but burning inside, his limbs felt foreign to the rest of his body, he didn’t know if he could even stand.

Suddenly, he remembered that Schlatt was in the room, and tried fruitlessly to pull himself together. Tentatively, he raised his heavy head to see if the other thought any different of him, for being scared, for not shouting back.

Their eyes met, Alex’s heart dropped to his stomach.

The expression on Schlatt’s face was dark, murderous. Eyes steely and enraged, every muscle tensed to the spring.

Somehow, Alex knew none of this bloodlust was directed at him.

The younger of the two watched his friend step over to the window that directly faced the road. He saw Schlatt’s glare harden.

“There’s a fucker outside.” Schlatt mentioned, tone flippant, unbothered. “He’s got a shotgun.”

Alex swallowed, and then had to do a double take at what Schaltt said next.

“Alright, two can play that game.”

Dumbfounded, he watched Schlatt stride over to the door.

He sprang up when he realized what was happening.

“S-Schlatt? Schlatt!” Alex ran over, taking Schlatt’s arm and pulling back to stop him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You can’t-,”

“Like hell I can’t.”

“You _can’t_.” He pressed. “Are you fucking crazy?! You’re gonna get yourself killed man!”

Schlatt laughed bitterly. “That guy out there is a puss, Alex. I’m just going to remind him of that.”

Alex gritted his teeth and put more strength on the hold he on Schlatt’s arm, uncaring to whether it hurt the other or not. “Are you listening to yourself man?! I’m not letting you go out there, he’ll shoot you if he sees you!”

There was a hand on the top his head.

“No.” Schlatt said, voice grave. “He’ll shoot if he sees _you,_ and that’s want to have a little chat about.”

The older shook of the grip, Alex scrambled to get it back. “Schlatt-,”

“And like hell am I going to let him get away with making you fucking cry.”

The door closed.

Alex was too shellshocked to try and open it. All he could do was raise a hand to his face.

Sure enough, it came back wet, salty tears coating the skin.

* * *

After a small detour to the underground parking lot to fetch something from his car, Schlatt ventured to the front of the two-story building and faced down a man that was, in any sense of the word, posing in front of a beat up white truck like a photographer from a hunting magazine was going to pop up any second.

The young man leisurely made his way over, taking note at how the other man was roughly the same height as he was, but had far more bulk. The man had his shotgun carelessly resting behind his neck, held up by his right hand. Posed to intimidate, but not to attack.

When he finally noticed Schlatt approaching, the older man raised an eyebrow.

Schlatt managed a grin. “Hey there!”

The other’s scowl only grew. “I saw you earlier, helping the brownie up into your car, I almost lost sight of it on the way over too.” His face grew simultaneously curious and disgusted. “He your bitch or something? Are you a pair of faggots, boy?”

With a smirk, Schlatt ventured a couple of steps forward, purposely getting in the other’s personal space.

“Why?” He asked sultrily. “Want to try it out for yourself?”

The man glared back at him, sneering.

“Disgusting.” He spit with hatred. “You’re a fucking disease. Tell the goddamn Mexican boy to come out here, does he fucking think he can terrorize my family and I’ll let it fucking slide?” He smirked at Schlatt. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, do you boy? That kid’s got to be in a gang, or the fucking cartel for all I know. You make the wrong move and they’re gonna come for your head.”

Schlatt grinned, eyes wide and unblinking.

“Oh, I know that.” He said, stretching up, curving his back, unassumingly reaching a hand behind himself. “And to that I say, the more the merrier baby.”

Big Uncle Sam’s facescrunched. “You’re sick.”

Schlatt barked a mirthless laugh. “And you’re insane!”

The older man, offended, was about to snarl something back at him, but froze at the feeling of something poking at his torse, pressed up right against his side. He recognized what it was immediately and made a move to readjust his grip of the shotgun.

The handgun digging further against his ribs halted him.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Schlatt chastised, leaning further in until he could just whisper into the other man’s ear. “Move and I’ll blow out your guts, old man.”

The older spluttered, eyes blown wide and frantic. “You- You can’t-,”

Another empty laugh from the younger man.

“I can ‘cause, you see, I’d call this an act of self defense.” Schlatt said, far too gleeful.

“Happy Second Amendment, bitch.”

They were pressed up far too close for Schlatt’s weapon to be easily spotted by bystanders. Not to mention that there wasn’t much pedestrian life to count on anyways. And the older man hadn’t been exactly subtle with his earlier intentions, what with the yelling and the shot gun still slung over his shoulder. If anyone was looking from any windows or half opened doors, they probably wouldn’t bother come to his defense.

Schlatt knew this, and probably so did the other man.

“I think I remember you mentioning family.” Schlatt reveled in the satisfaction of seeing the rest of the blood drain from the man’s face.

“You motherfucker-,”

“I’ll tell you what,” Schlatt grinned ferally, a snarl at his lips. “You stop being such a racist fuck and leave my buddy alone, and I’ll let your wife and kids keep more than just your blood scrapped off the sidewalk.”

The older man’s glare was fire against his own, yet Schlatt’s smile never wavered.

“There’s no shame in this, big guy. You just have to walk away and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

Their stare down lasted an eternity but, eventually, with a growl, the other man backed off and began to make his way back into his rusty white truck. Schlatt kept such a steady eye on the shotgun that he nearly missed the small navy lump over the car’s dashboard.

“Buddy!” Schlatt called out, jogging to go rest up against the man’s side window without a care in the world. The other gave him an incredulous and scandalized look, but Schlatt shrugged it off.

“I believe,” he started in a singsong voice, “that you have something here that doesn’t belong to you, and I’d like you to hand it back.”

Confused, the older man followed Schlatt’s line of sight to the dashboard and huffed gruffly. With one hand, he snatched up the piece of fabric and threw it a Schlatt, who caught it easily.

“Whatever.” The man grumbled, wordlessly drove off the paved hotel entrance once Schlatt had barely moved back far enough.

Schlatt glared at the retreating truck going down the road until he couldn’t see it anymore, and even then he let a minute or two roll by without moving.

The truck didn’t come back, the streets remained peaceful.

The 21-year-old hooked his unloaded handgun right back against the band of his pants at his back, hidden by his jacket.

Something curled in his stomach, he stumbled but kept himself upright. With his hand wrapped tightly around the dark blue piece of clothing, Schlatt forced himself to take a deep breath.

He strode back inside the building.

When he opened the door to Alex’s room, he found the younger man pacing, like he had been before, muttering frustrations under his breath. When he noticed Schlatt entering the room he marched over to him swiftly. The older barely got time to close the door behind him before he had a face full of agitated 20-year-old.

“I saw everything, _everything_ from the fucking window!” Alex yelled. “You’re absolutely out of your goddamn mind! What the actual fuck Schlatt?!”

Chest feeling a bit tight, Schlatt managed a shrug. “It’s fine.”

“ _No it-,”_ Alex reigned himself back from a shout, “No it fucking isn’t. I know your gun isn’t fucking loaded, a-and, and _even if it was_ then what? Huh? _What?_ You’re so goddamn lucky the psycho didn’t-,…didn’t shoot your brains out or something.”

With more confidence than he felt, Schlatt smirked at the shorter male. “Told you he was a puss.”

Alex stared at him like he’d popped a third eye open, Schlatt almost laughed, if only he couldn’t feel himself starting to shake. He blinked, snapping himself out of it and hastily pressed the retrieved iten against his friend’s chest, only letting go of it once Alex closed his hand around it.

The younger stared down at the worn out LAFD navy beanie and felt a stinging sensation bite at his eyes again, a knot tightened in his chest.

Alex let out a yell of frustration in lieu of breaking down.

He stood there aware that Schlatt had long since slipped past him, just frying to breathe through it, through all of it. He couldn’t let himself think about all that happened, if he did he’d be out of commission for the rest of the day and right now he needed to, he needed to…

“What are you doing?” The younger asked Schlatt, who was moving through the small room, shoving all of Alex’s stuff into his open suitcase at the bed.

“Packing, can’t you see?” The taller answered, as if his behavior wasn’t as spontaneously out of place as it was.

“But-,”

“Listen,” Schlatt started through a calculated breath, “I played the goddamn stupid as fuck action hero out there and it worked in in my favor, thank fucking god, but you’re right. I don’t know if the fucking lunatic is gonna come back with his entire hunting club and use us both to paint the goddamn wall, or call the cops and sell them some crazy story, so we have to leave,” he stared at Alex right in the eyes, “now.

“We can drive to my parents’- I swear, I _swear_ they’re _nothing_ like that fucker. But, hell, if you want to hop on a plane right now let’s do that, be it New York or California I’ll buy the goddamn tickets, just- just, let’s get out of here.”

When he finished, Schlatt was visibly shaking and swallowing in thick spasms. The handgun weighed a ton’s worth at his lower back.

Alex noticed all of this and walked over. “Hey, hey. Okay, we’ll leave, but just- just sit for a bit, okay? Sit down.”

With little fight left in him, Schlatt did, slumping over the edge of the bed. Alex sat next to him.

A second passed, and the whatever was quarreling inside Schlatt’s stomach curled in tighter.

“Fuck.” He said, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, elbows resting on his knees. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Alex let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, me neither.”

The younger glanced at the other man and placed a reassuring hand on his upper back, painfully aware of the handgun peeking from under the jacket.

“But,” Alex started, “thank you man, really. You were fucking stupid but, I-, I don’t know what would’ve happened if-,”

Schlatt’s mirthless snort cut him off. “Don’t let yourself go there, man.”

Alex winced. “Yeah.”

There was tense, yet comfortable silence, then.

Alex chortled hard enough that it startled Schlatt into incredulously staring at him.

The younger met his stare with a slightly pained but mostly amused smirk.

“So,” he said, “my own stupid as fuck action hero?”

Schlatt almost groaned but perked up and bit back with a matching smirk. “Pero, mi amor, nothing but the best for the bride to be.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I dumped you ass several story arcs ago, loser. Sapnap and Karl would snap you like a twig.”

“Ah,” Schlatt rebuted, “but they don’t have the Bruce Willis luck now do they? Nothing can touch me.”

Alex’s smile softened. “That’s some goddamn movie logic that we’re not gonna test out again. I’m okay with staying at your parents’, and then fly over to New York like originally planned. And then, fuck it, we’ll work through the trauma with some goddamn bagels, that sound okay?”

Schlatt chuckled. “Fuck yeah.”

Alex sucked in a long deep breath, closing his eyes and clearing out his head. He knew Schlatt was doing more or less the same next to him.

When their nerves had been properly stashed away to deal with when they were in a safer place, Alex nodded to himself.

“Alright. Let’s get a move on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I started writing this back in November and it's been a bit of a rockslide since then, so it's nice to finally have it out and ready for the public. 
> 
> Please leave me your thoughts in the comments, they're a great motivation to keep writing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Again, I wrote this to project an over exaggerated take on my own personal experience when I was in Florida, and a compilation of other people's testimonies. That being said, I am not stereotyping or accusing everyone that lives in Montana (or Florida for that matter) to have these kind of views on racial discrimination, this is a fictional adaptation and these are fictional characters.
> 
> For anyone who's gone through an even vaguely similar experience, anyone who's ever gotten racial slurs yelled at them or, unfortunately, anything worse than that, you've immediately become stronger just by going through that and still standing. I know it's tough and frustrating but, if it counts for something, I'm proud of you for keeping your head up. If it ever becomes too much, to hesitate to reach out to anyone offering to help. This goes out to the LGBT community as well as any other discriminated social group. Times are tough, but that's why we have to make it through them and become the strongest version of ourselves we can.


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